


rose

by unicornball



Series: Colors [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: DWRColorsChallenge, M/M, Sam Knows, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:32:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8305460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornball/pseuds/unicornball
Summary: Sam grinned, gaze darting down to where he could just make out the fact his brother and Cas were holding hands. He couldn't see their clasped hands, but he could tell by the way their arms were angled.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Today's color:_  
>  Rose  
> rose (/rōz/)
> 
> a warm pink or light crimson color.
> 
> _Just too many words about these two idiots holding hands._
> 
> _Enjoy._

"Shut up, Sam."

Sam snickered and held up his hands. "I didn't say anything, Dean."

"You were freakin' thinking it," Dean said, pointing an accusing finger at his dick of a brother with his left hand.

Sam shook his head and went back to reading his menu. Even though he knew what was on it and he knew exactly what he wanted, he knew he needed to divert his attention. Away from the completely adorable sight of Castiel trying to hold Dean's hand under the table. And Dean trying to glare about it instead of skipping out of the booth like the sappy dork he really was (way, way deep) inside.

They all glanced up when the waitress appeared at their table in a cloud of cheap perfume and the annoying sound of gum popping. She looked them all over, tapping a pen on the edge of her order pad. "What can I get you boys?"

"Pancakes, large stack. Coffee and a side of bacon," Dean said, offering a brief smile to their bleached-blonde waitress. He went back to fending off Cas' insistent fingers, trying to find a way to get out of the girly hand-holding but not offend Cas at the same time. He was vaguely aware of Sam ordering his whole-grain, all organic hippy food and Cas asking for lightly toasted rye bread—extra marmalade—and hot tea. He nearly sighed; Cas' eating habits were almost as horrendous as Sam's.

Castiel resumed his efforts the moment the waitress walked away, feeling a little smug and warm at her moue of disappointment that none of them had bothered to flirt with her (even though she had tried, valiantly, to engage each of them). It was like playing a match of Thumb War, but with all their fingers, as Dean's agile fingers slipped through his own with each attempt.

" _Dean_."

Dean ignored the muttered, chastising tone. No way was he going to let Cas latch on to him, knowing Cas would be stuck to him like glue for the foreseeable future. Most times he couldn't even shake Cas when he needed the bathroom. He didn't mind the lack of personal space, he'd gotten over that 'issue' ages ago. But they're in _public_ dammit and Dean Winchester does not hold hands.

Especially with another guy. Even if Cas wasn't _actually_ a guy, it was way too complicated to explain angel vessels and celestial wavelengths and shit to the casual observer. They just saw the Brokeback Mountain action and made faces (which, unfortunately, he couldn't remove with a salt round or a fireplace poker to the face).

Or, worse, made gooey faces and cooed at them and called them a cute couple. _Cute_. Ugh, they were manly and sexy—not _cute_.

" _Cas_ ," he mocked back, matching the angel's tone, and sliding his right hand into his lap and out of Cas immediate reach. As much as he didn't want to be attached at the hands like second graders on a field trip, he wasn't quite ready to move away. He didn't bother making use of the extra 6 inches to his left. There was a pleasant sort of security having Cas so close, feeling his too-warm body and their shoulders brushing occasionally.

Castiel huffed softly and eyed the hand he'd been reaching for that was now 'safely' tucked in Dean's lap. He eyed it for a long moment, long enough to make Sam snicker again and roll his eyes in mock exasperation. He glanced across the table but the younger Winchester wasn't at all bothered, merely putting on airs but unable to entirely hide his amusement and affection. He wondered if Sam becoming extremely interested in arranging his silverware was a deliberate ploy to divert his attention.

The waitress was back with their drinks, her lips a shiny rose of fresh lip gloss. He looked back at Dean and watched him spin his coffee mug, setting the handle on the proper side, with another small smile. Most of Dean's attention was on the warm ceramic pressed into his palm instead of the waitress' flirty smile. He ignored her as she set down his ice water, feeling only a twinge of remorse for doing so. It wasn't her fault Dean was extremely attractive and a habitual flirt. As much as he wanted to, he really couldn't blame her for trying for his attentions because it was not at all apparent that Dean wasn't available.

Because he wasn't. Even if he was averse to blatantly advertising whom he was taken by outside the seclusion on a motel room or the Impala, at least Dean didn't act 'single and ready to mingle' otherwise.

Castiel's brows furrowed a little and he redoubled his earlier efforts. He didn't care if he was being ridiculous, he wants to be connected to Dean and he was going to. He'd learned from Dean to be persistent when trying to achieve what he wanted and he's quite sure he can out-stubborn Dean with patience alone.

"Cas!" Dean hissed under his breath. He jerked his hand away when Cas made another grab for it, fingers brushing over his inner thigh in the process. Jesus. Five minutes pressed close to Cas and one accidental touch and he was half-hard. Freakin' pathetic.

He turned his head to glare and nearly groaned; that was a freakin' stupid idea. Cas was staring at him, that intense look he got just before he did something that really got Dean's engine revved.

Castiel slid closer to Dean and made another grab for his hand. "Please, Dean," he murmured, ensuring his hand didn't stray too close to Dean's crotch again. As pleasing at it was to touch Dean intimately, he was very aware public places were not conducive to that activity. Dean would not relent to what he wanted if he felt embarrassed. He lightly tapped his fingers along the top of Dean's thigh.

He cocked his head slightly and gave Dean a practiced look from under his lashes. "I promise to keep our hands under the table."

And just like that, Dean felt like a complete jerk and Batman at the same time. Cas was giving him The Look but offering to keep things hidden for his sake. Even knowing how big a dick he was being about it didn't quite get rid of that sappy, warm feeling Cas caused. He surreptitiously looked around, noticed they weren't getting anyone's attention, and hunched his shoulders a little. "Yeah," he finally said, giving in. Like there was any real chance he wasn't going to.

He sighed softly, moving his hand to rest over Cas'. Immediately, Cas' hand flipped over and their fingers were slotted together. He let their entwined hands rest on his thigh, trying not to care their hands were visible enough to anyone walking past. Maybe even Sam since he was so tall and nosy.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel murmured, squeezing Dean's hand affectionately, leaning closer briefly so he wasn't overheard. Dean tensed a little and he rubbed his thumb over the back of Dean's hand hoping to sooth his unease.

"Don't—" Dean cleared his throat and side-eyed Cas. "Don't thank me for that. I shouldn't be a dick about it."

Castiel narrowed his eyes and leaned in to study Dean's face, unsure what to say. He was grateful, even if he didn't always think he should have to ask for such liberties. Other couples didn't usually over-think small affectionate gestures. Did he agree, because he didn't think Dean should be so hesitant (even if he understood the way most of human society still viewed same gendered pairing)? Or did he sooth Dean, because he didn't think Dean was being a dick? He settled for a smile and a nod, shuffling closer, their sides pressed warmly against each other.

Both looked up when Sam cleared his throat. Loudly.

"What?" Dean asked, glaring across the table at his brother. They weren't groping each other or even being overly gross, as Sam liked to accuse them of being. He continued his glaring contest with Sam even as their food was brought over and put in front of them. He dropped his face only so he could inhale the steam coming off his pancakes.

Sam grinned, gaze darting down to where he could just make out the fact his brother and Cas were holding hands. He couldn't see their clasped hands, but he could tell by the way their arms were angled. He didn't intend to make fun, because it was kind of adorable and awesome. He was actually proud of Dean, too. But he really couldn't say any of those things without Dean being an asshole about it. He didn't want to ruin the moment and Cas didn't deserve Dean being a dick in public. Again.

"Nothing," he finally said. "Just swallowed a lemon seed." Dean narrowed his eyes for a second then went back to stuffing his face with pancakes, somehow still managing to inhale all 3 using only one hand. He took out some of the notes he'd been working on when Dean and Cas had wandered off together earlier, flipping open his notebook and pushing it towards Dean so he could see it. Dean shoveled the last of his syrup-soaked pancakes into his mouth and set his fork down on the plate.

And if Dean only used his right hand, his left happily occupied, Sam didn't comment on it because he was an adult like that.


End file.
